the sounds of new home construction
hammering nails into dystopian rhythms
waveforms like ring droplets on still water
spreading through our quiet neighborhood like a virus
coming off one sidewalk onto another waiting for my turn
to slip into the next car length space of pedestrians
as we all walk keeping our social distance
overly conscious of our spatial relation to each other
terrified of accidental exposure
the real walking dead now walking dogs
told to stay home as the virus looms stalking the people we love
waiting for them to slip up and touch their own faces
everyone forgetting to exhale as the anxiety overwhelms
whats left of our delicate social fabric
this isolation is advanced darkness
disconnecting us further from one another
finishing the job started by social media
so many little tribes divided and conquered
the collective unconscious sick with amnesia
we are hypnotized by corporate propaganda
dropped like a reverse atom bomb
imploding our fears and collapsing them like stars
creating blackholes in the war torn flag that is the american dream
our failed system we force on others all over the world
lies traumatized like a rape victim naked and afraid
made to feel guilty because our skirt was too short
blaming us for not being successful enough to purchase a test
like celebrities for $3400 quarantined in castles equalized in their rose baths
tired of pulling ourselves up like some facebook challenge
we should all use our bootstraps
to choke the throats of corporations and their politicians
preying on us like alter boys they pay no taxes like churches
from which these safety nets could be woven
because they have stocks to buy back instead of jobs to create
they suck blood from our necks lowering our credit scores
demanding we sacrifice the elders for the good of the stock market
and our illusionary economy built on everyone’s debt
Dan Fijolek is a writer and a poet.
